That particular morning I discovered that I could wake up to the sensation of having my cock sucked in an expert and sensual manner and still be in a vile mood.
Because it was Her doing it, you see, and I knew She didn't mean it.
I awoke from a deep dream of my cock plunging into a wet, warm space only to discover it was. She was lying there, partly entangled in my bed clothes and using Her mouth on just the tip of my throbbing, early- morning erection. Her tiny, delicate hands were wrapped around its length with just the right degree of firmness and Her blonde hair hung about Her face. She looked up at me as I opened my eyes and grunted and gave me a cheerful gamin wink as She continued to apply Herself. I designed that cock myself and I'm quite vain about it and I have to admit she knows just how to play on it.
It's amazing how good a job She does of imitating a human being, considering She is not now, nor ever has been. I set my face in as stern a frown as I could manage and said:
"Whatever it is, the answer's no."
"Dunn ahrr ewen gerra goo mornin?"
"Ahh, please don't try to combine speech with fellation. The vibrations alone...."
"I said," She said, disengaging Her mouth and beginning to crawl up my body, "don't I even get a good morning?" She bent over to kiss me and then skillfully impaled Herself on my shaft, causing my frown and irritation to waver somewhat.
"Good morning. And the answer's still no."
She began to grip me with the practiced and capable muscles of Her vagina and said: "Why do you assume that I'm after something?"
"Experience. Three times you've woken me up like this...."
"Not true. Last time...."
"Last time, you were wearing the body of a teenaged Greek boy, granted but the principle..."
"I don't know why you were so prejudiced.... I'd gone to a lot of trouble with that body..."
"It's part of being human. Be that as it may.... Ahhh!"
"Nearly there? Good....."
"Grrrr. As I was saying, you only wake me up with gratuitous and uninvited sex when you want to soften me up for some ghastly mission or other. You never do it when you don't have something in mind...." and here I did a sort of a roll and a flip and I was on top of Her without having taken myself out of Her internal grip for a moment, a trick I could never have managed without the benefits of MPC.
"Are you saying..... Ooooh fuck that's nice... are you saying that I'm a mercenary bitch who never fucks you for fun? Is that's what upsetting you?"
"I'm not upset. Just irritated. And yes, you certainly are aaaaah aaaah aaaaahh....."
The next few moments were too busy for conversation. And then I lay on my back and became aware (after a little while) of an early morning need to piss and the fact that I was going to give in to Her. Which made me even more irritated with myself and with Her.
She leaned up on one elbow and looked down on me.
"We've got a problem."
"What do you mean 'we', white man?"
She blinked at that and you could almost hear all the tons of computing power that make up Her real being sort through the cultural data banks before getting the reference. She shook Her head and tried again.
"Two reasons you're the one for it. Firstly it's in your neck of the woods and secondly it looks like we may have your favourite nightmare come true."
"What's that?" I said as I sat up. stood up and pointed myself towards the loo.
"Steam Engine Time." And with that a chill ran down my spine and we stopped joking for that morning.
She was vaguely aware of a lot of noise around her as she walked along but she wasn't really noticing precisely what was happening. Her glasses were dangling from the loop around her neck and the world was more than a bit blurry so she was right in the middle of things before her attention was drawn back from the clouds and the wind by a tug at her elbow. It was a woman standing next to her.
"Excuse me, but would you like to fondle me?"
"Uh, I'm sorry?" She couldn't have said what Janice thought. Could she? Janice pulled on her glasses, turned and looked at her and decided all of a sudden that perhaps she could.
The woman was black, mid-twenties and quite spectacularly built and what Janice's blurred peripheral vision had interpreted as a dark brown dress was in fact her dark brown skin. The woman was wearing nothing but a pair of calf-length boots, a slim wrist watch and a smile. She was cupping her quite spectacular breasts and offering them to Janice.
"Would you like to fondle me? Play with my titties? Suck on them, maybe?"
This is not, to be frank about it, a common greeting in the parks and highways of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Especially in February.
"Uhhhh. I. Uhhh," was all that Janice could bring to her mouth. She felt herself backing away.
"No need to be rude," said the woman and then turned to an elderly gentleman coming along the path with a small yappy dog. "Would you like to fondle me, mister? Give my titties a suck, hmmm?"
And then something happened even more alarming to Janice than being approached by one exhibitionist, fondle-mad lunatic. The old gentleman (white hair and a bristly moustache, military bearing, probably one of the retired colonels and majors with whom Cheltenham is infested) said: "Well, that's very kind of you, me dear. If you're certain, I'd love too. Haven't fondled anyone since my wife took ill. And you do have a lovely pair of bazooms, if you don't mind me saying so."
"Nice of you to say so. Just got them today. Come over here."
And then the two of them went over to a nearby park bench. He looped the yappy dog's leash around a leg of the bench and she knelt on the bench and fed her large nipples towards his waiting hands and lips. Janice turned and ran.
She was looking for a policeman, for a friendly British bobby or failing that a grumpy British park-keeper to report this to. What she found as she came around the Ornamental Memorial Fountain and caught sight of the Band Stand was even more surprising than public fondling in mid- February.
To start with she found her policeman. He had removed his uniform trousers (neatly folded over a nearby waste bin) and his truncheon had been tightly inserted in his rectum. He was on his knees in front of a bench full of a trio of young gentlemen who had taken out their willies and were being enthusiastically fellated by this guardian of law and order.
"That's a good little copper," one of the young gentlemen was saying, "Next time you come down to our cottage we'll have to give you a special treat, won't we darlings?"
One of the other young men, his penis erect and ready asked if the first young man 'would kindly pass along the cock-sucking pig' in a cut-glass accent that would have been more suitable to someone asking to be passed the port at an Eton College re-union.
Janice stood stock still for a moment and then just ran. She wasn't running toward anything: her mind had shut down and she was running away. So when she came to a halt and back into her right mind she was sitting, shaking and trembling beside a large galvanised metal waste bin, behind the Lakeside Cafe the other side of the Band Stand.
She had been aware, as she ran, of a large number of people on the park benches. They were of varying genders and varying states of clothing but all of them were engaged in enthusiastic sexual gymnastics that are not at all common as public displays at any time or place and seemed to her in equal parts ludicrous and terrifying.
Her heart was pounding blood in her ears and her head was swimming but she was no longer in a blind panic. She popped her head round the corner of her hiding place and took in the nearest couple passing by.
A man and a woman talking with upper-class 'county' accents of the sort that always ground on Janice's ears. They were not having sex. They were normally clothed and chatting about the breeding of dogs. The odd thing was that they had on the end of their leashes not Afghans or Dobermann's but a man and a woman, both blondes and looking similar enough that they might be brother and sister. They were naked and scampering about on all fours, sniffing each other's arses and barking.
The pair on the leash were let off to play on the grass. 'That's against park regulations,' Janice thought vaguely. The two naked, collared people began to hump enthusiastically barking the whole while.
She ducked back down as the sound of screaming and struggling came along the path towards where the dog-breeders were watching their pets at play on the grass. A man and a woman were being frog-marched along the path by half a dozen.....
Well, Janice was fairly sure they were women. They may have been six foot six and muscled like Hulk Hogan, but they were naked and their gender couldn't really be in doubt. The muscles probably helped them carry the bloody enormous tits they had without wrecking their backs. Their eyes looked sort of strange, rather like the eyes of cats and their nails looked more like claws than anything human. Their captives were a young couple, dressed appropriately for the weather. The man was listless and not resisting: the woman was crying out desperately for someone, anyone, please, to call the police, to get these lunatics off her.
"Oh, shut up woman," snapped one of the captors as she passed where Janice hid. "Beloved will fix you up and you'll be happy then."
"We've got to get Beloved to give us more of the knockout stuff in our claws. I'm using it up at a rate of knots," another of the Amazons said to her neighbour and then nodded a friendly 'good-day, nice-day' to the dog fanciers. They dragged the struggling couple along the path towards the Band Stand. Janice could see that there was someone seated right in the middle of it and a fringe of pink, brown and black bodies playing around about it.
There was a path from where she hid by which she could get to overlook where they were taking the couple. She ducked back down again and moved stealthily round.
What she saw when she got there was a strange mixture of the familiar and the bizarre. There was the Band Stand where in the summer, the bands of local regiments would come to serenade the populace with renditions of military music and show tunes, a little Gilbert and Sullivan and Sousa. And there on the benches around and about it were... Mostly women, she decided, because they ran to long hair and big (very big, ludicrously big) tits. They were playing with each other and watching at the same time, the figure in the large antique chair in the centre of the Band Stand. He was male, quite definitely. His erection was large and insistent and being fondled by a pair of pouting Asian beauties who didn't look much older than fourteen and had, once again, knockers of a size you seldom see outside of topshelf magazines. Although they were paying a lot of attention to him he was paying most attention to the person standing in front of him and the laptop her was tapping away at.
The Amazons stopped and waited with their captives just outside the Band Stand and waited while he finished his current piece of work.
The young woman in front of him was in her twenties and long red hair tumbled down her back. She stood a little rockily and her hands had reached up to cup a huge pair of breasts that hadn't been there a moment before.
"There you go," he said, as he looked up from his laptop. "What do you think of those?"
"They're.... They're.... Oh, God!" was all she managed as her hands cupped her nipples and she threw her head back in pleasure. "Thank you, Beloved! Thank you!"
He smiled. A velocoraptor smile. "Nice aren't they? I think I'd like you to go and show them to everybody in the park. Go and ask them to play with your titties, my dear, to suck your nipples and fondle you. You'll like that you know. And if any of the people want you to do them any little favours you'll be happy to do that too, won't you."
"Oooooh, yeah. Right. Good. Yeah...."
"Off you go and play then."
As the redhead turned to go, Janice saw that although the body was otherwise entirely feminine, there dangled between her (?) legs a cock of about nine inches in length, already half-hard.
Janice turned around and went back to hide behind the waste bin. She had no clear idea of what was going on, except that the loon on the Band Stand was obviously using the laptop to make the changes going on in the Park. Why she was unaffected was, for the moment, unimportant. She could not allow this madness to continue. She wasn't a brave person: she had to ask her room-mate Annie to chase spiders out of the bath every other morning. But her father had been in the Army and served his time in Malaya and then Ulster and the Gulf. She didn't believe running would do the least bit of good. She looked around for something she could make into a weapon.
A broken bottle. Nice rough edges. A heavy piece of two by four wood left behind by some work-crew or other. A club and a dagger. She put down her lunch and purse carefully and then took the bottle in her right hand and the piece of wood in her left. Stab and then bludgeon him to death while he's in too much pain to use the lap-top.
It was a good plan and it nearly worked.
She let the Amazons bring up their prisoners. She waited while the man with the Laptop asked the couple in front of him their names (Brian and Dorothy Spencer as it happens) and done something with the computer that made them stop struggling and start stripping. The Amazons let go of them and went away, looking for more targets presumably....
And then she ran out of cover, as his attention was focused on the couple in front of him, changing their bodies into something more suitable to Californian porn than Cheltenham. (Body builders. Sluts with big tits. Tony, her goddawful ex-boyfriend, had made her watch the stupid stuff and told her she was frigid when she complained of being bored stupid by it.)
She was within two feet of him when the cries of his little court alerted the petty god to her approach. She had the bottle swinging towards his eyes when he jabbed at one of the buttons on the computer and she froze along with everyone around him.
"Just as well I had that one prepared, eh? Now, let me get things back under control and we can take care of you next." He tapped at the computer and she felt herself being lifted away from him by the strong arms of Brian while Dorothy went through her pockets for some ID.
Brian and Dorothy were sent off to the nearby benches to play and she found herself stripping naked in front of him Waiting. The cold wind on her skin. Her body turned to face him and he smiled a toothy and hungry smile at her as his two bimbettes glared at the person who'd tried to hurt their Beloved.
"Now, how did my commands come to miss you, hmmm? I thought I got hold of everyone in the park."
"I only just came into the park."
"And I told people outside the park to stay....Ahh, that must be it. You must have been entering between my putting the controls on the people inside and telling the people outside to stay out. Know better next time. I'll do it the other way round. Still, no harm done, eh?"
"How are you.... Doing all this?"
"Ahhh, a lovely little computer program I've found. My hats off to whoever created it. Allows a simple laptop computer to bend reality. Just think what I'll be able to do with the versions I'll be running at work."
"I'm a Secret Civil Servant, my dear. I help program the big Crays at GCHQ." That was the British Government's big Signals interception base outside the town. "Very useful in breaking the security protection on this little beauty. Would you believe? It only had a range of a hundred miles. Soon fixed that. I started my reign as then new King of the World by clearing up all the cases of pox and clap in the UK. Very nice of me. And then I decided as I'd made hanky-panky safe I'd go out and find some fun."
"But why this? Why all this.... stupid filth?"
The velocoraptor smile again. "Nothing of the kind. I'm giving people dreams, happiness, fulfilment. All done with love."
"Love?" She was amazed at the rage in her own voice. She hadn't known she hated the man that much. She hadn't known that the scars from her last, obsessed, miserable affair with Tony had been that close to the surface. But clearly they had and her voice dripped sarcasm. "What the fuck do you know about love, you little shit?"
Perhaps it was the reference to his size that got to him. "Well," he said, "I know how to cause it. Like this." And he tapped one of the keys on his laptop.
And, just like that, Janice Arden knew Love.
He was her Beloved. She wasn't worthy of it but she knew that she loved him and he.... Well, perhaps he didn't love her but he owned her and that was fine by Janice. He was the Sun and the Moon for her and she knew that her purpose in life was to do whatever was best for him. His well-being was what mattered, not hers. Her happiness didn't matter a damn although she'd be happy as long as she had her Beloved.
"Let's fix up that body of yours shall we?"
Beloved's hands flew over the keyboard. Janice felt her hair tumble down her back and then her breasts swell until they hung off her chest like beachballs. Her nipples grew longer and thicker and hardened till they hurt. From her pussy she felt juices flow down her thighs. The two Asian girls (lucky, lucky girls to be so close to Beloved) giggle and she moaned and swayed at the pleasure that went through her).
She took a hesitant step forward.
He smiled. Oh, how his smile touched her heart! "Come closer little love. What do you want to say to me?"
She felt tears prick in her eyes. She knew what she had to do. She had to act to protect her Beloved from whatever threatened him.
"Beloved...." She stepped forward again and the words cracked in her throat.
And she snatched the PC from his lap and threw it as far away as she could.
One of the big-titted women on the park benches nearby made a quite prodigious leap in the air and caught it. She flipped it right side up and began to tap away at the keyboard. Back on the bandstand, Janice was weeping, weeping copious tears as she tried with her utterly inadequate strength to end her Beloved's life. The poet's lines kept going through her head
'For each man kills the thing he lovesThe brave woman will just have to use her bare hands. Janice was acting in her Beloved's best interest. She was a Christian, a good and faithful believer. And she knew that her Beloved must not be permitted to go any further down the path of damnation than he had already.
Let now the truth be heard
The brave man does it with a sword
The coward with a word.'
And then one of the Asian nymphets brought the club Janice had used to attack her Beloved with down on the back of her neck and her body crumbled to the ground.
Beloved stood up and sprang away from her.
"You bitch! You miserable, crazy, murdering bitch! You'll see! I was being a nice, kind God! But you wait, for you I'll be as big a bastard as old Jehovah! Only you won't get off as easy as having your brains bashed against a rock!"
Janice tried to stand again but the two nymphets pulled her down.
"Now where's my PC? You there! What are you doing with it? Give it right here this instant!"
The woman was standing away from the rest on a nearby patch of grass. She looked up and smiled. It wasn't the smile a lover gives her Beloved. More the smile of a hunter who has the prey firmly in her sights.
"You want this? Come and get it!" And as she danced away she could be heard to mutter: "Shiva Targeting commence on this object."
Beloved roared and ran towards her and she tossed the laptop at him. Suddenly, there was a circle of red light on the grass around Beloved. He looked up into the sky puzzled and the woman who had caught the computer shouted "Take Cover!"
Blazing whiteness burned down from the sky and Janice passed out in pain as parts of her skin bubbled.
I'd turned my head away at the last moment and my eyesight hadn't been blasted away although my skin was tingling in an unpleasant way. I started my internal Master PC program going again (no point in running it where Beloved might have noticed) and had it begin repairs on me and everyone around me. I had it knock people out as it did so, to give me some chance to think things through. Beloved's bodyguard fell over, their bodies healing of their burns as they fell and the more outrageous examples of mammary exuberance (big tits to you) shrank back to normal size. The program began to return them to their original forms where possible. In some cases I had arrived too late to record their original forms. That was to cause complications later. Especially with the three sex changes.
There was a scorched area about three meters in diameter around where the 'living god' had stood. The orbital weapon we had 'borrowed' from the American Ultra-Secret Department-Which-Does-Not-Exist had targeted him with a precision that I hadn't thought possible and he had been reduced to a finely cooked mass of flesh in an infinitesimal part of a second, too fast even for an MPC program to repair. His body had fused with the lap-top he was using and we probably wouldn't be able to figure out what modifications he made to the program. There was a disgusting smell of burnt flesh and plastic as I activated my inbuilt mobile phone and made connection with my employer.
"Is that you Boris?" Who else was She expecting?
"It's me. Problem solved but I'll be here for a while clearing up."
"What's wrong with your voice?"
"Oh. Hang on a tick. I had to go undercover." I shifted my form from the ludicrously endowed female form Beloved had preferred back to my own. I must admit I did so with some relief. Although I've tried being a woman, I can't feel comfortable as one. Too much like hard work being female. Especially with tits the size of basketballs and an arse the width of Kansas.
"How messy are things? And was it...?"
"No, not Steam Engine Time yet. He was an employee at GCHQ. Used their Crays to crack the restrictions on the MPC program. I'll have to take care extracting everything from there but we should be all right. This time."
"A pity we had to use the Shiva then. I'll be working through lunch- hours" when did she ever take lunch-hours? "for the next month covering that one up. Couldn't we have acquired him?"
"He was barking, Boss-Lady. Quite barking however brilliant he was.If he'd known I was there we'd never have got a handle on him. But I think we may be able to come out ahead in the recruitment stakes. I'll get back to you in a bit."
I walked towards the bandstand and went to stand over Janice as the program healed her burns and repaired her eyes. She opened them and looked up at me.
"I owe you a debt of thanks, young lady. Here is your underwear as a token of my appreciation."
"Thank you. And who the hell are you?" She stood and glared at me expecting me to look away as she dressed. She was disappointed.
"The unfortunate representative of the people, umm person, who made the program your recent acquaintance was abusing. Many thanks for your help. We can normally control any outbreaks at long distance but this went a little further than we like to allow."
"Where is he?"
"Over there. Dead."
She stopped in her dressing with her panties and bra on and went over to look. Tears formed in her eyes again.
"He had to die."
"I know that. I knew that when he made me love him the way he did. But still.... I had love. True love. For a little while."
I tried one of my favourite quotations. "Men have died and worms have eaten them. But not for love."
She turned and glared at me. "A fat lot you know about it." She stalked back to find her clothes. Around us people were doing the same. MPC started wiping their memories.
"If you're the ones who made the damned monstrous thing why in hell did you allow this to happen?" She stepped into her skirt.
"Well...You see, there are worse things than lone madmen taking control of people and turning themselves into petty gods."
"Like what," she said wiping at her tears with a fierce determination.
"Like the whole of mankind turning itself into petty gods. And maybe tearing reality apart as it does so."
"You see, what I'm afraid of, what my Boss is afraid of, is Steam Engine Time. You heard that expression?"
"It means: when a thing's ready to happen, when an idea has reached the point where it's ripe, then it doesn't just happen once. And the later in history, the more minds are working on making new things with more information at their disposal. Calculus occurred to two people, Newton and Leibniz. Steam engines came from half a dozen minds, the cinema had so many fathers they can't be counted. We, my bunch of people, got this power in our hands first. But we won't be the last. So my Boss sent out a limited version of the Program into the world. To see what would happen. To find out if humans can handle this sort of power."
"And does your Boss, goddam his soul to everlasting Hell, think that satisfying his curiosity is worth all this?" She swept her arm around her, taking in the charred corpse, the whole ridiculous and disgusting mess.
"Well, yes She does. You see most people use the power in ways that are stupid, disgusting or just plain mean. But a few use it carefully, thoughtfully, ethically and intelligently. We can almost always put right any harm done. We have the full power of the Program and they have only part. This time.... This time required a little more effort than usual. But my Boss is building up her collection of minds that can be trusted with power. We hope to be firmly in control of reality in this solar system before anyone else creates a rival product."
"You sound like a load of self-righteous, cold-blooded bastards to me. It sickens me to think of people like you with that sort of power."
"Good. Just the right attitude. Would you be interested in joining us? We can always use someone ruthless enough to kill the thing they love. Because it's the right thing to do."
She stood there with her mouth open. I waited, feeling the cold wind against my skin for her answer.